The luxurious fleet, led by a Bentley, its headlights cutting through the darkness of the suburbs.
Inside the Lincoln Limousine, Charlie River was sweating, his forehead tense, as he glanced from time to time at the man with a powerful presence beside him.
He was anxious. "Young Master, the person will be here soon. You must hold on!"
The man leaning against the chair back had a face as if meticulously chiseled by the hand of God, every feature perfectly harmonious.
At that moment, his breathtakingly handsome face was tinged with a hint of misty red. His slender, deep-set eyes emanated a mesmerizing glow.
His thin crimson lips were slightly parted as he gasped for breath, exuding an overwhelming sexiness.
His black shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, exposing a vast expanse of his well-defined chest.
His long, slender, knuckled fingers were already clenched into fists.
The rapid rising and falling of his chest indicated that the effects of the medicine in his body had reached their peak.
"Charlie River!" Thomas Shannon’s low, restrained voice echoed inside the compartment.
Charlie River’s heart leaped. "Young Master, hold on! The person is almost here!"
Before the bodyguards could bring her, a staggering figure appeared in everyone’s sight not far away.
Bodyguards standing guard outside the car simultaneously raised their pistols, their cold gun muzzles aiming at the approaching silhouette.
Sophie Sullivan ran, staggering, through the weeds. She didn’t dare look back; she didn’t dare stop.
She could only run desperately.
Suddenly, a cold-faced man appeared before her without warning.
"AH..." Sophie Sullivan was shocked and turned pale.
Clutching her chest, she could barely breathe.
How could there be someone here?
Unable to contain his excitement, Charlie River shouted, "Great! There’s one here!"
Before Sophie Sullivan could struggle, Charlie River pushed her irresistibly into the nearby Lincoln Limousine.
Darkness. Everything was pitch black, as far as the eye could see.
The air was filled with a faint, refreshing fragrance.
Before Sophie Sullivan could understand what had happened, her wrist was gripped tightly, and her body was pulled with great force.
It felt as if a century had passed before her body slackened, then fell heavily to the ground.
Her eyelids slammed shut, and she lost all consciousness.
The luxury fleet moved like a ferocious dragon baring its fangs and brandishing its claws.
Dashing at full speed on the highway, it headed straight for the airport.
On the helipad, a private jet stood ready and waiting.
Thomas Shannon, dressed in black, exuded a strong, oppressive air as he boarded the plane, flanked by bodyguards.
The magnificent Baroque Castle enjoyed an unparalleled geographical location. It was nestled amidst mountains and rivers, adorned with lush vegetation, flowers, artificial hills, and waterfalls. Profound heritage was revealed amidst its luxury, demonstrating imperial-like indulgence everywhere.
The fleet drove into the castle grounds. Headed by the butler in his tailcoat, the servants and gardeners stood in neat rows.
The Lincoln convoy slowly came to a halt.
The butler stepped forward, respectfully opened the car door, and said deferentially, "Welcome home, Young Master!"
The servants and family servants bowed in unison, greeting, "Welcome home, Young Master!"
Thomas Shannon strode forward with long legs, his handsome face grim, and entered the house without a sidelong glance.
Inside the resplendent castle, servants bustled about in an orderly fashion. Everything they did adhered to strict standards.
Upon seeing him arrive, they immediately stopped their work, bowed in unison with heads lowered, their posture one of utmost respect.
Thomas Shannon went straight to his bedroom, with Charlie River following behind him, a troubled expression on his face.
He was nervous and eager to explain himself.
"Young Master, the situation was urgent then, as you know. For your sake, I had no choice but to let that woman..."